Nightmares
by jellyjay
Summary: The first time Roy Mustang has the Nightmare, he convinces himself that that's all it is. Royai


**Nightmares**

The first time Roy Mustang has _the_ nightmare, he convinces himself that that's all it is.

He wakes with a start, sitting up with a jolt and breathing heavy, ragged breaths, ignoring the way his shirt – damp with sweat – clings to his back the way wet paper towels stick to whatever surface they happen to be on. His hand reaches towards the clothing at his chest and tugs at the collar as he tries to steady his breath.

It's still dark. The moon is bright and the shine from his window is the only light that keeps anything and everything visible. He's still in bed.

Roy sighs and shuts his eyes tightly. _It's just a dream_, he tells himself. _Just a dream._

He eyes the phone sitting innocently on the desk at the other side of the room. Perhaps he should call her – just in case…

_No. _The answer in his mind is firm. _It's the middle of the night – you'll just be a nuisance. She's fine._

Massaging his forehead, Roy falls back onto his pillow with another sigh. _It's only a nightmare after all._

---

_The_ nightmare comes back to haunt him every now and then – with no real reason, in his opinion – and it gets clearer and clearer every time.

A week or so later, he wakes up in the middle of the night once again, shaky and out of breath, but this time, he gets up and makes his way towards the phone.

"_Hello?" _Lieutenant Hawkeye's voice is tired – naturally, it's one o'clock in the morning or near it if it's not – but either way, Roy is glad to hear her.

"Riza?" It takes much of his self control to keep his voice steady, but it is Riza on the other line so she can probably tell anyway.

"_Colonel?" _she asks – she sounds concerned._ "It's the middle of the night – is everything all right?"_

Typical, he thinks, that the first thing she should ask is a disguised form of _'Are you all right?'_

"Everything's fine, Riza," he answers quietly, "I just… wanted to make sure you're okay… is it so bad to want to hear from my Lieutenant?"

There is a weary but somewhat amused sigh. _"Couldn't you have waited until work, sir?" _She pauses and Roy hears something that sounds vaguely like yawn. _"I'm fine – I can take care of myself. You of all people should know that. Are you sure everything's okay, sir?"_

"…Yeah," says Roy. "I'll see you in a few hours time, right?"

"_Of course, sir."_

"…Good."

---

Soon after, _the _nightmare begins to plague him even more than it already is. He finds it hard to get to sleep, nowadays – there are bags under his almost bloodshot eyes and by now, he thinks that even the people he's forced to work with in the absence his handpicked subordinates are beginning to catch on.

Every now and then Riza Hawkeye passes by his office on her way to the Fuhrer's and even then she can tell. There is no mistaking the concerned glances she gives him on her way past. There is no doubt that she figured it out since the first time he greeted her tiredly in the hallways of Grand Central HQ.

One day, when the subordinates placed under him (for now) are out on their lunch breaks, Roy allows himself to slack off. Perhaps here, in the office, he will be able to rest his eyes. He has been told that nightmares don't haunt the haunted in the places they do not usually occur – and, contrary to popular belief, he has never actually fallen asleep at work before.

_Just five minutes, _he tells himself. _I'll get back to work soon. _

---

_The _nightmare strikes again.

First there is silver – gleaming, deadly silver – with razor sharp edges glinting menacingly in the dim light. And it's always pointed at him in the beginning. Fuhrer King Bradley – _Wrath_, the other homunculus call him – is holding it at his throat.

"_You honestly think you can outsmart us?" _Bradley asks arrogantly – the tip of the blade is dangerously close to Roy's neck – _"You humans think so much of yourselves."_

Then there are gunshots. Gunshots that mean only one thing.

"_Riza! No – it's me he wants! Riza!" _He can feel the cold of the metal now – the point is grazing the skin lightly, but even so, he shouts in the hope that this time she will hear him.

The next thing he sees is that god-awful smirk gracing Wrath's lips. _"Well, well,_" he mutters. And he turns, removing the blade from Roy's neck to face Riza instead.

The silver flashes again and Roy is running. Towards his Lieutenant – towards Bradley and that sword of his – but it's too late. Bradley has her – his hand is around her throat – the silver flashes once more –

"_Riza!"_

And like that, the silver is stained.

There is red – red everywhere – the blossom on her uniform, the drops on the sword and the ribbon of it streaming from the corner of her mouth. And she falls.

"_Checkmate, Colonel."_

"_Riza – No! No! No! Riza! RIZA!"_

_---_

"Colonel, I'm here – I'm right here – wake up!"

Roy's eyes snap open. He bolts upright and finds himself staring into the face of the woman he'd lost in his dreams over and over and over again. She'd probably come in with the thought that he was slacking off again.

"Are you all right, sir?"

He doesn't answer. He stands instead, walks around the side of his desk, and pulls her into haphazardly into his arms, burying his head into her shoulder and breathing in her scent in an effort to calm himself. "Don't leave me," he whispers. "Promise me you won't leave me, Riza, please…"

"Sir, what are you – "

"Riza, _please_, promise me that, whatever happens, you won't leave unless _you _want to." He sounds insane, he thinks, babbling into his First Lieutenant's shoulder like a child.

Over his shoulder, she looks confused but lifts her arms to return the embrace. "I… I promise, sir."

Even after that, he doesn't release her. "Thank you," he mutters. "Thank you…"

---

That night, Roy Mustang falls asleep in peace for the first time in weeks.


End file.
